Short Story

BURN MY BISCUITS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Today’s burning question from Cyranny is: “What’s one odd thing about yourself that you would never want to change?”

Perhaps it’s not so terribly odd but for me it is a no-brainer: Promptness, as in I am never late … never; there’s no good excuse or acceptable justification to make anyone wait for me because in the scheme of things, I am just not that important.  

I have a family member who is consistently late and by consistently I mean late for everything, even her daughter’s recent wedding (how is something like that even possible?); we like to joke around that she’s going to be late for her own funeral but all the joking in the world doesn’t erase how irritating it is to have to wait for her every single time and it’s gotten to the point that we have to fib a little and give her a 20 minute earlier meeting time knowing she’ll be 20 minutes late but will actually show up on time … lol … see how that works?

Sure, shit happens, like being unable to control the weather or traffic; maybe we can’t control it but we can anticipate it by checking our weather apps and bringing along a freaking umbrella or listening to the traffic report and leaving the house 15 to 20 minutes earlier than the other guy … the guy who doesn’t care if he shows up late and makes people wait. 

I’d rather be half an hour early for my doctor appointment than arrive 5 minutes late; at least I can get myself a cup of coffee, listen to the radio and relax in my car until it’s time to go in, even though chances are excellent the doctor will be running late!

In that case I am faced with the one thing I dislike more than being late and that, my friends, is called “The Hurry Up And Wait Syndrome”; man oh man, does that ever burn my biscuits – like an old Sunbeam Toaster Oven stuck at 475º!

NAR © 2023

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44 thoughts on “BURN MY BISCUITS”

    1. Sadly, it’s all about them and they will never change. Equally sad is the fact that there’s nothing we can do about it, short of ending a friendship. Maybe if we start excluding the late-comers, they’ll eventually get the hint and change their tardy ways. Maybe.
      Thanks, Bernadette

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  5. agreed Nancy the one thing I dislike more than being late and that, my friends, is called “The Hurry Up And Wait Syndrome”; man oh man, does that ever burn my biscuits – like an old Sunbeam Toaster Oven stuck at 475º!❣️💞

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  6. Promptness is important, and we try to be prompt for everything.

    There is one time, though, it really could not be helped that we were late. As I put the baby in the car seat, I heard the familiar gurgle sound and felt something. By the time I bathed and changed the baby and myself and cleaned the mess off the car seat, trust me, there was no salvaging that one.

    An in-law relative of ours (who is “in” no longer) was always late and got offended when she found out we were telling her an hour earlier than the actual time. She once showed up at 10pm for a 7pm dinner at someone’s home and was offended they didn’t keep the food out and hot for her.

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  7. I love your promptness, Nancy. It’s intriguing to see some people boarding a moving train at the eleventh (rather twelfth) hour, even if that train is running late.

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  9. We had a friend who was always, always late, by a lot too. Sadly, we lost her to cancer. Her funeral was on a very blustery and drizzly early spring day, and everyone waited at the cemetery. And waited. After a half hour, my friend Linda and I caught each others eyes and we were both thinking the same thing – she really is late for her own funeral, and we started laughing like crazy. Then, the hearse, that had broken down, rolled in, and everyone clapped and hooted. We then had one crazy party.

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  11. I know a woman who insisted that some rituals be performed at her daughter’s wedding, in the morning to please her mother. The bride could go to the salon only after that, and the entire wedding was derailed by 2.5 hours.

    The venue in the 5-star hotel was booked till 5 pm, but …..

    And she was sitting on a guest table to exclaim, “I don’t really know what’s happening.”

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      1. All too true (about some people) who, I’d venture most of us have in our lives.
        Surely the text book example of passive aggression. More times than not, as you point out, the person inflicting their will on others will resort to donning the tattered ( but still quite substantial) mantle of victimhood at the slightest provocation.
        Exciting Six

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        1. Thanks, Clark.
          Passive aggression with a bit of the control freak, a sprinkle of unawareness and a dash of egomania combine to make one sick puppy.
          I’m sure psychoanalysts have a lot to say about this.

          Or maybe they are just that out of it!

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  12. Over the years I have heard various excuses for being late, from ridiculous to witty. Still, they are all met with a signature silent look (the first time) and with empty space where I would normally occupy it had they been on time.

    Having said that, I doubt anyone would come here and declare beiin a repeated being-late offender.
    (love the slang burn my biscuits😄)

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    1. Oh, I agree with that 100%. It will be interesting to see if anyone here admits to having a problem with lateness. In the case of my family member, she KNOWS she’s late and just laughs it off as a personality quirk we are supposed to accept. Her husband calls her “childlike”; I say more “childish”. There is a huge difference, as you know.

      Love the skeleton warming his biscuits as he waits; a great graphic find! 🤣 🤣

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  14. Yeah … I am an early prompt bird too Nancy …
    “I must confess, I was born at a very early age.” … Groucho Marx

    “I wrapped my Christmas presents early this year, but I used the wrong paper. See, the paper I used said ‘Happy Birthday’ on it. I didn’t want to waste it so I just wrote ‘Jesus’ on it.” … Demetri Martin

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  15. My wife was constantly late for everything we did, as she spent way too much time looking at herself in the mirror. I missed out on a few dibbers at company parties because of that where I was told the food was excellent, but it was put away before we arrived. I was miserable having to go to the White Castle on the way home because I was hungry and that was the only place still open.

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    1. You sound like a good and patient man, Jim, and I have no right to speak ill of your wife BUT … you knew that was coming, I’m sure … BUT after missing out on one company dinner, I’d never let that happen again. I would have left the wife at home and attended the dinner alone. Yes, she would have been very angry but I bet it wouldn’t happen a second time.
      Under normal circumstances and only occasionally, White Castle hamburgers are pretty darn good although the last time I was actually at White Castle, Nixon was in office! 🤣

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    1. Outrageous, isn’t it? I was kept waiting once for almost 2 hours in a doctor’s office. Several times I asked what was causing the delay and was given the obvious answer that “the doctor was running late”. Not once did someone address the patients in the waiting room. After asking several times when I would be seen by the doctor and waiting close to 2 hours, I’d had enough. I gave the staff a piece of my mind, left the office and never returned there again. Total entitlement and disrespect on behalf of the doctor and her staff!

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      1. Hubby was kept waiting hours for an appointment, then finally his name was called………. only for him to be shown into yet another waiting room for almost another hour. His appointment was 10.30 and at 1pm we were going to walk out. He was called in at five to, no apology, no explanation, and left just after 1pm having been told there was nothing that could be done…….. which they had already told him four months before at the initial appointment, but this consultant was on an ego trip. Their time might be precious, but then so is the time of their patients.

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        1. That’s very distressing to hear, Di. No one deserves to be treated so disrespectfully, especially people who are ill and waiting to see the doctor. I’m reminded of the miserable woman who worked at the rectory of our church. Every time she answered the doorbell, she was nasty and curt as though she was being greatly inconvenienced. She had no idea why those people were coming to the rectory; perhaps a family member was dying and they needed a priest or they were there to arrange for a funeral. What a sad commentary about our society.

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